


till you make it

by poedameronvevo



Category: Star Wars: Resistance (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Not Season/Series 02 Compliant, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents, Surprise Kissing, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poedameronvevo/pseuds/poedameronvevo
Summary: Months after the destruction of Hosnian Prime and TheColossus's escape from Castilon, Kazuda Xiono and Synara San undertake a mission to help an old Imperial defect from the First Order. Nothing goes as planned, especially the kissing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you clicked on this fic, thank you! It's nice to know there are other people interested in Kazara bc I just think they're the cutest.

Kaz feels right at home, like this is just another one of his father’s fancy galas. He can almost imagine Hamato Xiono throwing his credits around to dazzle the senators of the other Core Worlds into supporting his legislations—if only there was less deathstick smoke. Back then Kaz didn’t know why it _worked_. He thinks he has a good idea now. 

Cantonica isn’t Hosnian Prime, but Canto Bight is just as lavish, glitzy and dreamy as a New Republic gala to hide the seedy corruption that supplies this kind of wealth.

_Home_ is an afterthought, the kind that sneaks up on you and feels like a punch to the gut when you catch yourself thinking about it. 

It’s been months. The _Colossus _has been to a dozen different systems, more than Kaz had ever hoped to see when he had enlisted in the New Republic Navy. He’s gotten to meet new friends in other Resistance cells and make new enemies and take whatever mission General Organa gives him because _thank the stars _she survived D’Qar and Crait. 

Kaz thought—_hoped_—it would get better, easier. That’s what people tend to say to each other when they’re going through something difficult. Or maybe that was just on Hosnian Prime, where credits would make anything disappear. It still hurts and even worse, something inside his brain tells him it’s fake, that he only saw it on a holo. He hasn’t tried to contact anyone, not even his father. He doesn’t want to give away The _Colossus’_ position, but more than that he’s terrified of what will happen when the comm won’t connect.

He can’t piece together the image of Hosnian Prime being blown up with the destruction of everything he knows and cares about, and Kaz isn’t really sure he wants to.

Yeager’s been really good about that, letting Kaz know he’s not alone. It’s probably because he knows a thing or two about losing most of everything. The sharp ache of Tam’s betrayal is another weight on Kaz’s mind, and Kaz knows Yeager isn’t doing any better with it either. 

“... _Blowfish One. This is Blowfish Two, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?_” Kaz sighs. Truthfully, he had hoped Neeku would drop the Blowfish comm names, at least for something a little bit cooler, like _Clawfish_.

Kaz pretends to scratch his ear, taps the transponder in his ear to open the comms.

“Loud and clear, Blowfish Two.”

“_Excellent! Blowfish Three, do you copy?”_

Synara’s voice crackles, distorted with static, but it trips Kaz’s heart up all the same. She’s here, she’s finally here coming in from her own dropoff point. It’s only been about a half hour since he landed, but Kaz feels better, if not a little lightheaded, about having backup. 

“_I copy, and don’t call me that again._”

“_No problem, Blowfish Three!_” Neeku replies, just as cheery and probably without realizing he’s just, in fact, called her that again.

Torra had actually volunteered for this mission until Captain Doza had told her she wasn’t stepping one foot on Canto Bight. If Kaz is being honest, It had been a lot easier to sneak around and do spy things together when Doza had the First Order to worry about. Kaz wishes she was here, ever since they freed the _Colossus_ he feels like they’ve got that partners in crime vibe going on. And knowing that Torra is only their pilot, getting them into Canto Bight and out when they need her makes him nervous. More nervous than he actually is, because it’s Synara who finally stepped in.

Really, she is the right choice. She was spying for Kragan Gorr and the pirates and was doing a good job of it too until Kaz, only by accident and his massive crush the size of Mimban, found her out. 

The problem is that even after he had come to terms with the fact that he had been willfully ignorant, and had the regret lodge itself snug between his ribs, he was still stupid for her. Head-over-heels, _I’ll get you out of here even though you almost ruined everything_ stupid for Synara. It didn’t help that she had cared enough about them in return that she helped him save Torra, and then helped them flee the First Order. 

Kaz could have handled a crush that turned out to be a Bad Decision. He’s had a couple like that; a bad memory that would just come back to embarrass him when he was alone and thinking about it too hard. But Synara came back and stayed despite the rest of the pirates splitting off to terrorize another platform or planet and Kaz, really, really needs to learn how to focus without getting distracted by her if she’s here for the long haul. 

Kaz finally spots her coming down the stairs and his heart kicks against his chest. She looks beautiful. And he knows he’s already seen her during their briefing in this long, slim black dress that matches the long, silky hair she’s finally let down, but. 

He’s taken back to the shuttle after rescuing her, where she had first opened her eyes and his brain went and completely whited out until she knocked the sense back into him. And even before that when he had found her lying there, in that container, somehow managing to not let the _she’s beautiful_ slip after Poe’s _who is she? _

Torra isn’t even here to kick him in the shin again to bring him back to reality. 

Synara doesn’t look at him, doesn’t even glance his way, but that’s okay. It’s part of the cover, the _mission_. They actually have to act like proper spies for once. 

Kaz isn’t the only one gawking. He may be dense, but he isn’t stupid and he knows no one is going to call him out for staring like the lovesick loth pup he is when most of everyone else is staring at Synara as well, and Torra and… well. Tam aren’t around to check him.

Kaz doesn’t think about Tam. Or _that._ He just refocuses on the mission.

  


* * *

  


Davith Korr is all of sixty-two years old and indulges in the types of greed and gluttony that the slim tailoring of the old Imperial uniforms do not accommodate kindly. 

Kaz, for the record, thinks this is a terrible idea. Has said that he thinks this is a terrible idea. Kaz has only seen holorecordings and messages and he can smell that the guy is off by lightyears. The worst part is that no one argues against him. _He isn’t Crix Madine, _General Organa had admitted. But he owns the only spaceport on Gall, an inconspicuous moon located in the safety of the Outer Rim Territories, and The _Colossus_ could use a port right now. 

Both he and Synara have managed to get into Canto Bight, now all that’s left to do is meet and extract him. 

It all sounds too easy. Kaz can’t ignore that tiny worry at the back of his brain that something, inevitably, will go wrong. There could be First Order officers here that recognize Korr, sympathizers who will blow their cover, _Tam _who will absolutely recognize Kaz and… he doesn’t really want to think about what she would probably do if she saw him again.

For the briefest moment, Kaz catches Synara’s eye as she scans the room and he swallows the lump from his throat, knowing he’s staring too much now.

  


* * *

  


Kaz never really learned how to play the sycophant, mostly because by the time he had enrolled in the Navy and didn’t have to attend his father’s galas anymore, he was still rebelling against them. He didn’t want anything to do with them because they were _boring_ and he had made a show of being polite, but _clearly only there because he was the Senator’s son_.

He thinks he’s doing alright though, playing the part of _wanting _to be there, because Yeager’s also on the comms channel and he even mutters a _good job_, impressed, when Kaz doesn’t shrink away from an Ithorian who offers up a game of pazaak and turns it into a rant on how the destruction of the Hosnian system really affected the mining guilds for the worse financially.

He doesn’t even flinch when the Ithorian talks about Hosnian Prime like all it’s good for is money, doesn’t care about the lives lost even when he says _it was such a tragedy_. 

Kaz doesn’t know when he got good at pretending. Maybe it was when Yeager and Torra, even Captain Doza and Aunt Z and Neeku—literally everyone—asked him if he was okay five different times a cycle, and he actually had to sound convincing when he told them _I’m fine _or else he really, really, would start being not okay if they didn’t stop.

Kaz pretends, and talks it up just as big.

He knows what he’s talking about. It’s been so long but he’s back in a familiar element and after listening to his father talk so much about _bonds_ and _insurance_ and _premiums_ and _market_ _crashes,_ he keeps up with the Ithorian easily until he’s about a hundred and fifty credits richer and _oh, _he can’t wait to treat himself to lunches on The _Colossus _now. Kaz will always feel more comfortable in a starfighter, but being a spy is much easier when you actually know the kind of crowd you’re acting for.

The Ithorian laughs—Kaz thinks it’s a laugh—and pulls back his cards, congratulating him in a friendly way that means he’s done losing credits to a small-timer clearly only on Canto Bight to look for big-time connections. 

Kaz doesn’t even remember the Ithorian’s name. 

“_Kaz, Synara._” Yeager’s voice breaks through the haze of deathstick smoke and Kaz falls back to reality. “_Start making your way toward the ballroom. Korr will be there soon.” _

“I copy, Yeager.” Kaz heads to the ballroom while Synara mutters an “_affirmative._”

Kaz takes a moment, scans the ballroom crowd. No Davith Korr yet. He takes his time, pretends he’s actually looking for something to do or someone to mingle with until he can see Synara.

He takes a deep breath and wrings his hands together, exhaling slowly. _Okay Kaz, be cool. You’ve got this. _

When he looks over at Synara, he knows that he doesn’t have it. He loses it. He freezes right there at the edge of the dancefloor, mouth open and just staring. He wishes Torra were here for the second time, so she could kick his shin. _Focus._

Synara’s eyes catch his and it’s over. Everything else falls away. The other patrons blur at the edges of his vision, his heartbeat drowns out the live band. Davith Korr could streak through this ballroom and Kaz probably wouldn’t even care because Synara smiles at him from across the floor and sidesteps a hungry looking Chadra-Fan without even acknowledging him. She walks towards him like it’s her mission, and it _is _part of their mission but Kaz hasn’t felt this type of attention from her since she took him out salvaging to pry him for information. 

It’s another reason why Kaz can’t ever really see himself getting this whole spy thing down. He’s too honest, too open, his father used to say Kaz is about as transparent as a viewport.

He’s genuinely giddy, buzzing with excitement when Synara enters his space with another smile and says hi.

“You look like you’re waiting for something,” she says. Kaz’s father was absolutely right and Kaz’s stomach churns uneasily.

“Yeah, I just—first time here, not really sure what to do. Where to go first. There’s a lot going on. I’m Kaz,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

“Synara,” she grins. “Want to dance?”

He takes her outstretched hand, warm in his, and tries not to blush too hard.

“Lucky for you, I’m a _great_ dancer.”

Kaz knows he gets nervous and awkward around Synara. It’s hard not to when she’s nice and beautiful and strong and perfect and all he has to match it with is… well, himself. A kid who went into the Navy because the only thing he’s good at is flying—which he’s fine with, because he loves it. He can’t tell the difference between a hydrospanner and a sonic driver. One of the only people who considers him a best friend is a fifteen-year-old. Kaz _knows_ he’s just awkward in general. Which he then tries to cover up by acting cool, which makes everything much, much worse.

But here, in one of Canto Bight’s glitzy, expensive ballrooms, he thinks that maybe that’s the right way to go. That this is how it would have played out if he had met her when she was conscious and didn’t punch him in the face. 

And to everyone else, he’s just some new face with family money about to get in way over his head with a beautiful woman’s attention. It happens all the time in holo-movies.

It’s been an act. Kaz can tell when Synara is putting on a show in front of these people because he knows her well enough to know that she _doesn’t flirt_, at least not with him, but that all fades away when she laughs—she’s stepped on his foot _again_, and he yelps because it’s starting to hurt. 

Synara is a horrible dancer. She has no rhythm and Kaz never paid much attention to his father’s suggestions—_you are the son of a Senator, you will have to learn eventually_—so he can’t save face either. So much for being a great dancer.

She leans in close, letting her hair fall between them and the crowd. It’s good privacy and it’s suggestive and Kaz is really, really in over his head right now because she says “you changed your hair” and “it suits you, Kaz”, and that’s real, that’s Synara, and Kaz savours it more than this act they’re keeping up. The dancing, her arms around his neck, his hands on her waist, it’s all _good _and Kaz won’t be close to forgetting this any time soon, but it’s fake and he wishes it weren’t. 

They keep it up, swaying on the dancefloor because neither of them can actually dance, even when Synara starts to get restless and Yeager is in both their ears asking if they’ve got eyes on Davith Korr yet.

He was supposed to be in the ballroom ten minutes ago, but Kaz and Synara keep swaying, eyeing the crowd. There’s no sign of him. She dips her head close again and Kaz’s hands twitch against her waist. 

“This is taking too long,” Synara says. “We should go see what’s happening.”

Really, Kaz wants to stay here, just in case Korr does decide to finally show up. And, well, he just wants to keep dancing with Synara. Mostly. But more to keep watch for Korr. Obviously.

“We don’t even know where he is,” Kaz says. It’s weak, he knows. He cringes because it sounds stupid and Synara is already pulling away.

“I think I have a good idea where that might be,” she says.

She takes his hand and leads him away from the floor. The Chadra-Fan from earlier eyes him enviously on their way out, and Kaz grimaces. He slots his fingers against hers, and Synara only glances back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Didn’t you see that guy?” Kaz grumbles.

“I was trying not to.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the private sector.”

Where only the richest of the rich, the worst of the worst are? Where all the backroom trade and smuggling dealings happen and security won’t let you just _wander_ around?

“How did you even get back here?” Kaz asks as Synara leads him down a quieter corridor.

“I’m a good spy, now come on. I want this to be over just as much as you do.”

“Oh.”Kaz frowns. It’s not that he wanted this to be _over_, he just wanted… to know that they’ve secured Davith Korr and maybe dance with Synara a little more. If she wanted. Which she doesn’t, and that’s okay too. Kaz doesn’t really like Canto Bight all that much anyway.

“I’m going to murder these heels if they don’t kill me first,” she grumbles.

The private sector, Kaz finds out, is a maze of long corridors with rows of doors leading to private lounges. 

“We need to hurry,” Synara says, looking out around the corner for the patrol before motioning for Kaz to follow. “There will be a security detail coming down this hall in less than five minutes.”

And Kaz really, really doesn’t want to. There’s this knot tied tight in his gut and he thinks that maybe the best thing to do right now is to just go back to the ballroom and wait for Korr there, maybe even go back to the pazaak parlor and win some more credits off that Ithorian; just wait it out.

“Synara, I really don’t think—”

Synara whirls around on him.

“You are not backing out on this now, Kaz. We should have been long gone by now. Who knows who else has seen us here.”

“I just have a really bad feeling about this,” Kaz protests.

“You’re not the only one!”

Synara stops at a door with a holo-placard that states in clear, bright red, bold Aurebesh that the lounge is occupied. Synara doesn’t seem to care, because she’s opening up the door’s control pad and tangling her fingers in the wiring.

“What are you doing?” Kaz isn’t sure which corridor he should be looking out for. There’s a corner where the security detail can walk around at any moment, and the long hallway they’re in the middle of right now makes them sitting ducks.

“Korr is in here. When I open the door, we pretend that we’re looking for a room.”

“We’re _what_?” Kaz isn’t sure he can pull that one off, that’s way, way too close to what he would actually like and—

“Focus, Kaz. He’ll recognize us. Then we can get out of here.”

But the door doesn’t budge no matter how many wires Synara crosses, and the five minute mark for the patrol is coming up fast. Kaz can feel the sweat on the back of his neck start to trickle down into his shirt collar when he hears the unmistakable thud of a security droid’s feet echoing down the corridor.

“Synara, come on!”

Kaz pulls at her arm, but Synara doesn’t budge. The loud, metallic thumping of the security droid’s feet are getting closer, and Kaz really,_ really_ doesn’t want this to end this way.

“It’s _fine_,” Synara hisses.

“It’s really, _really_ not fine!”

Synara tries the control pad again and bangs on the door when it won’t give.

“Uhg! _Stupid._” They both look around, but there’s nowhere to hide, just a long stretch of corridor to their left, a corner with a sentry droid and a security guard coming towards them on their right.

And then Synara says “_kiss me,” _and Kaz’s brain short-circuits. In milliseconds, Synara is on him, pinning him to the door and her lips are on his. Kaz freezes, eyes wide open, trying to focus on the purple blur that is Synara’s face. 

Out of all the possibilities he had imagined, this wasn’t it. There was looking out over the water on Castilon at sunset; in The _Colossus _hangar after absolutely _acing _a mission together—not that there were many possibilities he had imagined. He hasn’t, _really_. They make it too hard to talk to Synara without acting _lovesick_ (Torra likes that word) afterward. 

Maybe it’s not the best. Kaz knows. Synara is stiff against him and her lips feel waxy with lipstick against his, but she squeezes his arm a bit too hard and tells him to “_come on, help me out”_. Kaz doesn’t really know if this is ever going to happen again, her face so close to his, her hair down and brushing against him. She smells sweet, like she borrowed one of Torra’s perfumes. _That’s _kind of off-putting, but the point is Kaz never even thought he’d get to kiss Synara, and now she’s kissing him, so he closes his eyes and lets himself pretend for a moment. 

He isn’t quite sure where to put his hands. He doesn’t want to overstep or over-touch, and he really, really wants to ask if this is okay, but Synara isn’t giving him an inch to pull back because the patrol is right on their heels. He tangles his fingers in her hair and cups the nape of her neck, pulling her back to him. Synara’s eyes go wide in the brief moment he sees her before he closes his eyes and presses his lips back to hers.

It’s nothing he’s ever really expected it to be. Nothing falls away, not completely like back in the ballroom. He can still hear the security detail getting closer, can’t fully concentrate on Synara against him like this in a way he’s wanted for… for a long time. But Synara relaxes against him with a content sigh and her lips get softer, slicker with Kaz swiping his tongue along the space between them. There might be too much tongue, Kaz isn’t sure, but he wants to be. His heart thuds against his ribcage and he’s pretty sure he buries his hands in her hair because they’re shaking and he wants her to feel good, wants her to think he knows what he’s doing. He pulls her bottom lip between his teeth, runs them along it gently like he’s seen in the holodramas and she groans.

The sentry droid’s footsteps stop, and so does Kaz’s mouth.

“Did you hear that?” The guard asks.

“There are two unauthorized heat signatures around the corner.”

“Kaz, what are you doing? _Don’t stop_,” Synara hisses and kisses him again. 

Then it comes:

“Hey! No one’s allowed back here.” 

Synara pulls back.

“Sorry, we just couldn’t find our room, we’ll just—”

The door behind Kaz slides open and he falls back into the room with a shout. Somehow when he gets up, Davith Korr is right there, face pinched with frustration.

Kaz only recognizes him by the slight frown his mouth always seems to have. 

“What is all this?” He says with a crisp Imperial accent to match.

Before the guard can say anything, Kaz jumps in.

“We were looking for you. You were supposed to meet us twenty minutes ago. The ballroom?”

Recognition sparks in Korr’s eyes.

“Ah! I’m assuming you’re my little rebel friends.” And Kaz really, really isn’t sure why he would say that out loud, but they’re one step closer to getting him out of here. Korr waves his hand dismissively at the guard. “It’s alright, they’re with me.”

The guard frowns, but he signals for the security droid to stand down.

“Just get them out of here, Korr,” he huffs.

“Sir, we need to leave right now,” Kaz says after the guard passes by. 

“This is my last night as a friend of the Order,” Davith says. “Tomorrow I’m going to be a wanted man. I’m going to keep making the most of it and I’m going to bet on the races. You should too.”

He slips Kaz a security key, and Kaz assumes that that means they’re now allowed to wander the private sector.

He levels them with a _look _that says _don’t bother me until I am ready to leave, _and Kaz is really, really starting to hate the guy. Korr turns his back and disappears down the corridor.

Synara scoffs.

“The nerve of that guy. I should drag him out of here myself.”

A half hour ago, Kaz would have been more opposed to the idea.

“Yeager, do we really need that spaceport?” He knows he’s whining because Synara frowns at him and Yeager sighs in his ear. “I’m sure there are plenty others out there in that quadrant.”

There’s a long sigh at the other end of the comm. Kaz feels the same sentiment in his bones.

“_He’s the best lead we’ve got, and we’re close to closing this deal. Just hang in there for a few more hours._”

Kaz groans. He knows exactly what Yeager is going to say next. _Better do as you’re told and make the most of it._

“I need some air,” Synara huffs.

  


* * *

  


“Can you believe that guy?” Kaz throws himself against the railing with one big exhale. He watches as Korr mingles with his acquaintances in the box seat below, waiting for the fathier races to begin. “Who does he think he is?”

Synara all but rips the heels from her feet and wriggles her toes with a sigh of relief. 

“He’s going to get himself killed,” she says.

Kaz groans.

“Don’t say that. This mission’s bad enough.”

Synara flashes him a humorless smile.

“He doesn’t know how to be quiet. He called us his _rebel friends_ and thinks he can go back to gambling with his _Imperial friends _the rest of the night. He’s not smart.”

“No one cares about allegiances here,” Kaz grumbles, resting his head on his arms to look out at Cantonica’s bright lights glittering around the race track. “It’s all money.”

“Kaz, do you really think we’re the only spies here? He’s loud, he probably wouldn’t even know he was being tailed if he wanted to. He doesn’t know that _we _followed him out here.”

_“Please_ don’t say anything about assassination attempts. I don’t want this to be more complicated than it is.”

Synara laughs at him and checks his shoulder with hers before settling in beside him like they didn’t have to make out to keep their cover before Korr blew it for them.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she admits after a while. Her eyes scan over the golden halos of the lights; she’s been doing that a lot, like she can’t get enough of it, or believe it. “It’s beautiful. Is this what it was like on Hosnian Prime? I can’t imagine myself fitting in a place like this.”

Kaz isn’t sure when she found out Hosnian Prime was his homeworld. He didn’t really tell her, maybe Yeager or Torra or Neeku did. Or she just put the pieces together until they fit. She’s a better spy than he is. The only thing that matters is that she hasn’t treated him like a ticking thermal detonator and he really, really appreciates that.

What Kaz wants to say is this: _you would fit in just great, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, have you even seen yourself tonight, can I kiss you again, _but he feels his cheeks heating up just thinking about saying that and he can’t.

“Eh, it’s nothing special. You wouldn’t have wanted to fit in anyway.”

Synara grins at him, and when he looks at her smile he can’t look away. The lipstick is smeared and faded—_he did that_—and Kaz wonders if his lips are tinted green too.

The ground shakes when the fathiers thunder past and Kaz realizes that they’ve missed the start of the race. He wonders which one Korr bet on. He hopes, a bit sourly, that he didn’t bet the whole spaceport.

“I don’t see how anyone could enjoy this,” Synara says, watching as the fathiers turn their first corner. “Throwing credits away at a chance for more.”

“What else would you do with all that money?” Kaz asks. “It’s not like anyone here misses it when they lose.”

Synara laughs again. 

“You don’t sound like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“No, I am!” Kaz tries to backtrack. “I just—” Synara’s making the night a lot more bearable. Kaz just never thought he’d have to be back in a place that reminded him so much of home and everything he didn’t like about it when _home _was now space dust. He’d honestly give anything to sit through one of his father’s galas again, if it meant seeing his family.

But here they are, and their Imperial contact isn’t even cooperating because they could have been out of here hours ago and on their way to Gall.

Really, Synara’s been the highlight of Kaz’s night, but when isn’t spending time with her the highlight of that particular day?

Synara rests her hand on his shoulder.

“I get it, Kaz.”

And she’s looking at him like she had just before she escaped the platform, _before _Kaz had gone and said something stupid about sensitive goodbyes. He wants to kiss her again, make it better this time, but they should probably talk about this too, if there is even anything to talk about. It was just for the mission, right? They couldn’t blow their own cover. 

Kaz isn’t sure if he wants to ask.

“Kaz,” Synara says, Her hand is still on his arm, and thankfully the fathiers are making another pass around the track because the thundering of their hooves drowns out the thudding of his heart in his chest because maybe she’s looking at him like she wants to kiss him again, or at least actually talk about it.

Kaz glances back to Korr just to make sure he hasn’t tried to disappear on them again, but he’s still in the box seat, laughing it up with his Imperial buddies. There’s a new person there, a Palliduvan who doesn’t look like he belongs anywhere on Canto Bight and—

There’s a bright red shot from a blaster right at Korr’s back, the sound is drowned out as easily as his racing heart, and Kaz has been so, _so_ stupid. 

“No!” Kaz watches as Korr crumples, disappearing into the crowd of Imperials circling around him. The assassin looks up and points their blaster at them. “Synara, watch out!”

“What—”

Kaz pushes her down with a hard thump just in time to see the red blaster bolt zing past. _Too close._ Screams erupt all around them and Synara’s eyes widen when everything clicks into place.

“Are you okay?” He asks, helping her up—or maybe she helps him up, maybe they just cling together a split moment before—

“Kaz, we need to run. _Now!”_ Synara takes his hand and pulls him through the throngs of people as the crowd melts into chaos. 

“He saw us,” Kaz panics. “He’ll be looking for us.”

They make it as far as the private sector again, despite Kaz’s best protests. “It won’t be crowded, we can get to Torra faster,” Synara says.

But the security guard Korr had saved them from the first time is there, and there’s no one to help them when he says: “I’ve found the suspects, female Mirialan, human male. They’re making their way through the lounge now.”

“Now what?” Kaz hisses as they duck behind another corridor.

“We have to get him off our tails,” Synara says.

“Maybe we should kiss again.”

Synara gives him a _look, _and Kaz knows that that’s not what’s going to happen. Which is fair. 

“Just keep running,” she says. When Kaz turns around, she’s gone and his heart drops. _Oh stars. _This isn’t good. He stops, which_ also_ isn’t good because a warning shot whizzes by his head, red. Kaz yelps, throwing his hands up.

“Stay where you are,” the sentry droid orders.

“Where’s the other one?” The guard asks. “Ditches you when things go south?”

_Just keep running_, Synara had said. Was he supposed to meet her somewhere? What if he was supposed to meet her somewhere after they had both lost the patrol?

“Me?” Kaz laughs nervously. “I’m not with anyone.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her soon enough,” the guard says, all humor gone from his voice.

But Synara finds them again first. She sprints back down the corridor without a sound and when the security guard and droid realize what he’s staring at, it’s too late. A vibroknife plunges into the back of the droid’s neck, sparks flying everywhere as it crumples into a mechanical heap at her feet. 

The guard has his blaster aimed at Synara, but Kaz recovers and punches him square in the jaw. The guard stumbles back, dazed, and Kaz shakes his aching hand with a wince. Synara does the rest, landing a kick right into the guard’s gut, and another across the other side of his face. He slumps down, motionless.

“Are you alright?” Synara asks.

“Wow,” Kaz says, breathless. “How did you even get that past security?” 

Kaz watches Synara put the vibroblade back into the holster along her calf. She picks up the blasters and tosses one to Kaz, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a terrible spy, Kaz.”

And, okay. There’s no heat behind her words, but that normally doesn’t hurt as much as it does now.

“I’m a _pilot, _not a spy—wait, was I a good kisser at least?”

“Come on, we need to get to the rendezvous point.” She touches her ear. “Torra, are you there?”

“_I’m here. Can you get outside?”_

“They’ll be looking for us. Neeku, can you find us another way out?”

“_I’m on it, Blowfish Three! There should be a turbolift in the southeast quadrant near your location.”_

Synara grimaces. 

“That’s not exactly what I was hoping for.”

The thirty seconds stuck in that turbolift is what feels like the longest thirty seconds of Kaz’s life. There’s still an assassin out to get them, and Kaz really hopes they can make it to Torra without running into him at all. 

The doors open, and Kaz and Synara are running back into the ballroom. The patrons there are still milling about and dancing as if the news hasn’t spread, or they just don’t care.

“Left or right, Neeku?” Kaz asks.

“_Left!”_ They’re already breaking into a run again when Neeku gasps: “_No, wait, right! I’m sorry Kaz, we do not have the same view of the floorplan.”_

Too late, the Palliduvan that killed Korr is aiming his blaster pistol at them. Kaz drops his blaster and ducks; Synara banks a right as the crowd around them descends into chaos again when he fires the blaster pistol.

The chaos is good cover though, as the Palliduvan looks around for Synara. Kaz slips away, watching as Synara bursts from the crowd, knocking the blaster from his hand. But the Palliduvan isn’t as predictable as the sentry droid was, and he kicks her leg out from under her. She goes down, and her blaster clatters away, just out of reach.

Kaz panics when he realizes he’s lost his blaster, looking around for something, _anything_, before he sees the service droid holding a tray of hors d'oeuvres. 

“Give that to me!” Kaz grabs the tray, but he doesn’t expect the droid to pull it back, and he stumbles forward.

“Young man, I will have you escorted from the premises!” the droid barks.

“Are you kidding me? My friend needs help!” Kaz pulls back harder. “I said give it!”

With one hard yank, Kaz winds up on his ass, tray in hand. He scrambles back up onto his feet and sees that the Palliduvan has gotten his blaster pistol back, and is pointing it at Synara.

“Synara, no!” Their eyes meet for the briefest second before she’s reaching out to him, calling his name, and the Palliduvan startles.

It’s enough.

Kaz whacks him over the back of the head once, and he keels over, dazed. Another swift _thunk_ has him lying on the floor.

The tray clatters to the floor beside the Palliduvan, forgotten, as Kaz finds Synara’s hand and pulls her up. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Synara says, “just—” _not really_. Kaz knows. He’s stared down the barrel of a blaster a few times since he’s been with the Resistance, and it doesn’t ever, _ever_ get easier. There’s only so many times you want to see your life flash before your eyes, only so many times you can actually scrape up the courage to make peace with everything before what you think is the end.

Yeager’s voice breaks through the daze.

_“Kaz, Synara, you need to get out of there _now.” 

“We’re working on it!” Kaz says, looking back at Synara as they struggle their way through the chaos.

“_Kaz listen to me,” _Torra says. “_I have a plan.”_

  


* * *

  


Said plan involves making a break for the yacht that’s scheduled to make its hourly departure in less than five minutes. It’s also easier said than done when you’re trying to muscle your way through throngs of rich aristocrats who don’t appreciate being shoved out of the way.

It’s not until another blaster bolt rings through the night that the crowds part more easily.

“_Sithspit,_” Synara curses.

“He just… doesn’t give up,” Kaz wheezes, running after Synara.

They’re too late. The yacht pulls its landing ramp away from the dock and glides smoothly over the water until Kaz and Synara can’t even make the jump.

“Okay Torra, you got a different plan?” Kaz asks.

“_Jump!”_

Kaz skids to a halt at the edge of the dock, nearly falling when he looks down and sees how far the drop is.

They’d never hit the water and live.

“Are you kidding me, Torra? We’d never make it!”

“Just do as she says, Kaz!” 

Synara leaps and for one moment, Kaz freezes, whole body going stock-still as he watches Synara fall.

“Synara!”

Another blaster shot flies by Kaz’s head. Maybe he’s just tired of getting shot at tonight. Maybe, he realizes, that he really would follow Synara anywhere to make sure she’s safe. Maybe, just maybe, Torra is right about this. He hopes.

He takes the jump and screams.

There’s that one moment where you’re suspended midair, and then the fall comes and it feels like all of your internal organs cram into your throat. It goes on for a long, long time, and Kaz is sure he’s going to hit the water.

The First Order AAL is already there when Kaz opens his eyes.

“Kaz!” Synara shouts. “Look out!”

Synara gives Torra the all-clear as soon as Kaz’s feet hit the durasteel. Kaz winces as Torra pulls away from the dock. His legs feel like liquid from that landing.

“Are you okay?” She glances over him, eyebrows pinched together. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I think I’m okay,” Kaz says, but he takes the hint and wraps his arm around her shoulders and lets her help him up.

The Palliduvan watches them as they gain altitude, rising above the dock. Kaz has a feeling that this isn’t going to be their last time seeing each other.

“_I’ve got them, Yeager,_” Torra says, and there are two relieved sighs from across the comms.

“_Great job, Torra. You too, Kaz, Synara._”

It doesn’t feel like a great job. 

Torra idles the transport far off from Canto Bight so that Kaz and Synara can safely climb inside, and Kaz slumps against the panelling with a heavy sigh as CB-23 rolls over to check on them.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he says when it whistles at him, worried.

The sound of his own voice echoes hollow in his ears. Synara frowns as she sits next to him.

“Kaz…”

“We failed,” Kaz says. He hangs his head, suddenly bone-deep tired. “Korr is dead and who knows what’s going to happen to that spaceport on Gall now.”

“_You can’t win ‘em all,”_ Yeager says. “_We’ll talk back on The_ Colossus.”

Synara doesn’t say anything as her hand brushes against Kaz’s cheek. His pulse spikes despite how tired he is, but all she does is remove their commlinks and give them to CB.

“Kaz,” she says, just between them, “he did this to himself. I would have rather made it out alive with you than be stuck down there wrestling him out of his own mess.”

Suddenly her arms are around him and Kaz can’t _breathe _she’s hugging him so tight, and that’s definitely the only reason why his eyes start to water.

“Oh,” comes Torra’s voice when they’re safely out of atmo. “We’ll be docking on The _Colossus _in a few minutes, I just thought—am I interrupting anything?”

Synara moves her arm and Torra is against both of them in a heartbeat.

“I’m just so glad you guys are okay,” she whispers. “We didn’t need his stupid space station anyway.”

Kaz huffs out a sound that might be a laugh because somehow, he might be starting to believe it.


	2. Chapter 2

Artorias isn’t Castilon, but if Kaz looks over the ocean at sunset and squints to blur the islands against the horizon, it’s pretty close. The _Colossus _has been here for just over a week, trying to find a refuelling point. It’s a nice break, not getting shot at or sneaking around, just playing _Flight Simulator Squadron _with Torra and Neeku. Of course, there’s still work to be done at Yeager’s Repairs and Kaz can’t ever hope to become as fluent in mechanics as Tam, but he’s trying. 

Synara’s, well… Synara’s been helping with salvage. Not that there’s much here. Artorias is peaceful, there aren’t many ship parts to salvage. She’s probably avoiding him, but Kaz doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t know what he’d say either. 

He almost asks Yeager if he should say something, but that means admitting that something’s happened. Which also means admitting he’s been thinking about it more than he should; spending every free moment thinking about those kisses and hoping there are more in the future that _aren’t _to keep them from getting caught by security. Aside from Tam, and maybe Torra, Yeager is really the only one who knows how bad Kaz has it, and Kaz really doesn’t feel like trying to explain _all that._

Exhausted, Kaz is almost dozing off as the sun starts to dip into the ocean when—

“Kaz?”

Kaz comes to with a shout, nearly falling off the edge of the platform before he turns around and sees Syanra. And _oh stars_, he’s not prepared for this. He didn’t like thinking about the fact that Synara _might _be avoiding him after Canto Bight, but _this_, this is somehow better and worse.

There’s a mini conservator under her arm.

“I never got to say yes to lunch,” she says and Kaz’s heart flutters. Is this a date? _Stars_, what if this is a date? He didn’t even shower before coming from Yeager’s. Synara is like. The last person he expected to come find him out here.

“Oh. It’s okay, you really didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

The container is filled to the brim with gorg legs, and they’re halfway through them before Kaz works up the courage to say, “so, uh. How’s salvage?”

It’s not the best he’s ever come up with, but it’s definitely not the worst either. He takes another gorg leg to shut himself up.

“It’s not like back on Castilon,” Synara says. “There’s nothing here. We haven’t gotten so much as an ancient piece of duracrete. It’s kind of boring. I just want to get back out there and _do_ something.”

This is emphasized with a sharp kick outwards to the sea, scaring a duck off when the heel of her boot comes back to bang against the pipe. Kaz hasn’t seen Synara restless like this before, not since he had helped her escape The _Colossus. _

So. Maybe she was avoiding him then. It’s fine. Kaz takes another gorg leg.

Maybe he can send another communique to General Organa, see if she has any other missions for them. They _do _still need that spaceport.

“You’re keeping your hair like that?” Synara asks, trying to lighten the mood.

Kaz hadn’t really thought about it. He hasn’t worn it down in his face since he was a kid. It’s down the bridge of his nose now, and tickles it to the point where he sneezes. It’s kind of annoying, and he really only puts up with it because he ran out of his styling oil.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really think it’s my style.”

“It looks good on you,” Synara says, and that’s the second time she’s said something, so maybe Kaz will try it out for a bit.

He smiles.

“Thanks.”

They finish off the gorg legs before the sun fully sets, and Synara stays, watching the sun submerge under the water with Kaz. It’s more than he could hope for, really. He’s fine watching sunsets with Synara even if he’s not entirely sure why she’s here after avoiding him for reasons he’s not entirely sure of either. Well, he can take a hint, but he doesn’t want to assume.

He’s content, and he knows he’s staring but Synara looks good like this; better than she had at Canto Bight; more relaxed, at ease with herself and the galaxy as the sun washes her golden. 

And she doesn’t seem to mind. Still, Kaz turns back to look at the night sky when he feels his cheeks warming with the realization she definitely has caught on.

“Look,” Synara says after a while. “What happened at Canto Bight—I wanted to talk about that.”

“Oh?” Kaz squeaks. “About Korr? Because we really didn’t need that spaceport. Neeku says that The _Colossus _has a few more months of fuel left. He kind of deserved it anyway.”

And thankfully, Synara humors him.

“He would have sold us out. It was only a matter of time.”

“Yeah,” Kaz says, breathing easier again. 

“Kaz, I know you like me.”

“_What?”_ Kaz balks. Then laughs, high pitched and fake because this is, like, the last thing he expected. He doesn’t even know what to say. Okay, well, he kind of expected it, but he thought Synara would have gotten the hint _not _to bring it up. “Well yeah, of course I like you, you’re my friend.”

“No, I know you _like _me.”

Kaz scratches at his head and wrinkles his nose when he realizes his fingers are still slick with gorg grease. “I, well. Uh, you know. Yeah, I guess,” he ends with, weakly.

And thankfully, Synara keeps talking because Kaz absolutely does not know what else to say to that.

But then—

“When I was with Tam before she… left.” Synara pauses and Kaz really, really doesn’t want to talk about Tam right now. Literally anything would be better, especially when they’re somehow also talking about how Kaz feels. “I wanted more than what life had given me. I was just a pirate, and everyone here has taught me that I could want more and that I could do something about it. I want to help people. I don’t want to take from them anymore. I want to be a part of the Resistance. That’s my something more.”

Synara puts her hand over his, and Kaz’s heart skips a beat. This is it, this is where she’s going to let him down. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you like that. I shouldn’t have. It was for the mission, but I knew it wouldn’t be for you.”

“Hey.” Kaz shrugs weakly. “It was for the mission,” he parrots. “What else would we have done?”

Synara is quiet, so Kaz continues: “Anyways, since we’re apologizing for things going wrong, it was my fault Korr got shot. I should have been watching him more carefully.”

He was just, y’know, too busy thinking of other, not-as-important things like whether or not Synara would kiss him again for non-mission related reasons.

Synara squeezes his hand, and Kaz, for the life of him, can’t think of a good reason why she would still want to hold it.

“No. We both were. I was distracted too.”

Kaz blinks.

“What?”

“Kaz, you’re a good person.” Kaz looks over at her in the beat of silence that follows, and he can’t catch that next breath. “I want to be like you, someday.”

_You are_, Kaz wants to say. _You’re more than me, you’re better, you’re perfect_, but he knows the feeling; not being good enough, faking it ‘till you make it, but no matter how long or hard you try, you still feel like you’re faking.

What Kaz does say is, “eh, you wouldn’t really like being me” and immediately cringes.

Synara laughs.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you too. I would. Want to, I mean. When I’m ready. I think… when we’re both ready.”

Synara’s hand stays covering his, and that’s enough, more than enough. That tiny little spark of hope re-ignites in his chest, ready to keep him warm until then.

“Okay,” Kaz says, a little breathless. “Yeah, okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think!


End file.
